


Who's a Heretic Now?

by maydaykevin



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fantasy, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Magic, Mentions of past abuse that is canon typical, Neil is doing Neil things, One Shot, Renee and Andrew are good friends, Witches, andriel level fluff, so snark and eye contact and admissions, the foxes are in a coven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21682297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maydaykevin/pseuds/maydaykevin
Summary: Andrew was sure he would never meet his Contra. His soulmate.Andrew was not prepared for Neil Josten.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 19
Kudos: 490





	Who's a Heretic Now?

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tv_JN9Tzy1g) song, it's quite fitting.  
> For clarification, the words type & abilities are synonymous for individual powers & magic, just if it’s not clear.  
> Also, soulmates are not inherently romantic, they exist as platonic relationships as well. Just wanna put that out there.

Andrew felt it one rainy afternoon on the rooftop.

It was the unexpected jolt the others had explained time and time again, the one that Andrew knew he would never feel. It was as impossible as it was unlikely, his particular type without an obvious counterpart. His coven was grossly stereotypical: growth and fire, water and land, pain and healing. Andrew was an outcast in his own group, born to never meet his Contra.

But the electricity in his fingertips told Andrew otherwise.

He grit his teeth and peered over the veranda, bracing himself for whoever he would see. He begged to the Gods he had long since lost faith in that they were not boring, and not too interesting either. Andrew would be unable to stomach either. What he saw was auburn curls, a myriad of scars and toned legs, and Andrew went very still all at once. 

He was unprepared for _striking._

Auburn curls was looking at his fingers curiously, and Andrew’s own sparked again. He curled his hands into tights fists, pushing down the curiosity that had settled in his chest. It weighed him down, and Andrew had no time nor any patience for it. He did not know him, would not know him, it had to be some kind of _mistake-_

A mighty gust of wind came from nowhere. It ruffled Andrew’s hair and the necklaces adorning his throat, and ruffled certain auburn curls. He closed his eyes and let it overcome him, his hair still flowing even when the gust stopped. Andrew watched on as the man’s left foot lifted off the ground, then the other, his body drifting with the wind and taking him away from the cottage and into the treeline.

Andrew breathed through his nose for a few seconds. He looked down at the smoke that erupted from his palm, and thought of the wind that had swept those auburn curls away, and everything made too much sense.

Nicky shrieked from somewhere inside the house when Andrew punched the roof.

He learned the delivery boy’s name that night.

They had gathered at the formidable wooden ten seater table for dinner, Abby having worked for hours in the kitchen for their Sunday banquet. Andrew liked to sneak his meals into his room, the others having stopped trying to coax him out. Sunday was the only night he dined with the coven, suffering through the inane conversations and grating voices long enough to pacify them. 

“The potatoes are lovely, Abby,” Renee gushed from beside Andrew. “I thought we lost our rosemary plant a few days ago?”

“We did,” Abby looked mournful, and Andrew did his very best not to smirk at the imagery of a ravenous fox ruining the only rosemary plant they had left in the garden. “But I had some brought to the house. I used that new delivery service that’s popped up. All you have to do is conjure their owls, write down what you need, and someone will be at your door within a few hours. He was very quick.”

All humour washed from Andrew’s expression. If Renee saw him tense she did not mention it. She was good like that. 

“I’ve heard about them,” Dan said, munching on the potatoes. “Would be useful in winter.”

“It sounds like a system you’re all going to abuse, so let’s forget about it.” Wymack’s words, despite sounding final, were not. They never were. Andrew knew in a few weeks he would be ordering some obscure alcohol that Kevin would end up stealing. “Strangers coming to the house everyday doesn’t sound ideal.”

“But it would be fun,” Allison grinned from behind her wine glass, eye glinting. 

“What was his name?” Andrew’s voice had the table falling silent. It grated on his nerves how shocked they all were when he proved he could speak, the novelty wearing thin after the second time. 

Abby blinked through her surprise, her cutlery frozen mid-air. “I think his name was Nate,” she stopped for a moment to think, mouth opening in an o, “No! It was Neil.”

Neil sounded like a name fit to ruin Andrew’s life.

Andrew found the parchment on Abby’s desk after dinner, reading over the incantation enough times to memorise it. Once was suffice. He saw the words behind his eyelids when he fell asleep that night, mouthing them until his throat was dry and he could ignore the burn of his fingertips. 

Just after sunrise, Andrew sat on the rooftop and spoke the incantation carefully. 

He only had to wait a few minutes before he heard the shriek. The owl appeared from seemingly nowhere, its wide eyes eerily human. It perched itself neatly next to Andrew, lifting its wing and revealing the parchment tied to its left ankle. 

Andrew’s handwriting was a scrawled mess, so he drew an even messier picture below it in case the message was not clear. He watched the owl fly off into the treeline, just as Neil had, and Andrew had an hour or so to prepare what he would say. Words never came easy to Andrew, so he hoped Neil was a talker.

He hoped he would not regret that thought. 

He made his way back into the cottage and settled on the couch, the hum of the radio drowning out the sound of the coven bustling around the second floor and laughing in the garden. It was always so loud, so _fucking_ loud. Andrew cherished any peace he could get.

Andrew would later blame that peace when his eyes fluttered shut, and he woke up startled a few hours later. Aaron was standing in front of him, a careful metre away. He said something about a doorbell, and a delivery boy, and Andrew cursed under his breath and rushed to the door.

The broom was settled on the welcome mat, wrapped neatly with an orange bow around the hilt. Andrew resisted shoving it in the trash. 

“We already have a broom,” Aaron said, hauling it over his shoulder. 

Andrew pushed past his brother, decidedly not looking back. “Now we have two.” 

He tried again the next morning. 

Andrew had ordered chalk, noticing Renee’s supply had dwindled. She used it for summoning and for the tips of her hair, and Andrew wanted to be the one to give it to her just to get under Allison's skin. The blonde would retaliate as she always did, making sure the sun would rise on his side of the house for a week. 

It was irritating how one of the more disdainful people in the coven had control of the sun, but Andrew had the moon on his side with Renee. Using a Contra to his advantage was not anything new, and Renee was amicable enough to allow it. 

His attention was soon locked onto familiar auburn curls when Neil breached the treeline. He was walking, not hovering, a wind Andrew could not feel ruffling his curls. He had a small package in his arm, and he looked comfortable bouncing off of rocks and speaking to the butterflies that gathered around him. 

The spark startled Andrew, and he grit his teeth. In the middle of simmering away he almost forgot to approach Neil. The doorbell was his reminder and he rushed from the window to stumble through the threshold, the flurry enough to wake the sleeping house. He did not care, experiencing a disorienting tunnel vision when it came to Neil. 

The man in question was waiting for him.

“Three deliveries in three days,” Neil said, leaned against the column by the stairs. He was wearing ugly denim shorts, but they exposed his thighs so perfectly that Andrew was _just_ able to ignore how ugly they were. “I’ll have to thank your coven for keeping me in a job.” 

Andrew’s fingertips felt like a concoction of popping candy and fireworks, so pressing and hot that he was unable to filter himself, “You felt it.” 

Neil simply looked at Andrew for a long moment, and it gave Andrew the chance to look back. His face was marred by scars, burns on his left and deep cuts on his right. It ought to look frightening, and make him less enticing, but Andrew was always intrigued by what was different. 

“What did I feel?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

“Who says I’m playing?” Neil retorted, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. Andrew noticed his hands were hidden behind his back, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Andrew took a step forward. Neil did not falter, “Stop lying to me.”

“I don’t know you,” Neil raised his chin, “I don’t owe you anything.” 

In a bout of frustration Andrew opened to door to his abilities, letting the smoke pool from his hands and settle around them. It was a lacklustre type, useless outside of disorientating people, but Andrew supposed it would have been disastrous if he had gotten Aaron’s talent for fire. 

There was retaliation in a fierce wind, whipping past Neil to combat the building smoke. It was then when the spark spread to his hands, up his arms, and settled in his chest. Andrew had never experienced a heart attack, but he thought it had to feel something like this. 

Andrew stumbled back and hit the door, fingers winding in the fabric of his sweater in a poor attempt to help himself breathe. His throat had closed up, his chest shuddering violently with every inhale, and he didn’t know if the agonised keen was coming from him or Neil. It better have been Neil, Andrew would not forgive himself otherwise. 

The others had never warned of any kind of pain, and Andrew wanted to wring their necks. He heard commotion behind him, and attempted to punch the first shadow that drifted in his line of sight. But Andrew’s body fell limp without the door holding him up. The world tilted, and started to fade. The smoke cleared, and Andrew knew he had been right about Neil. 

Andrew came to with a rainbow blanket pulled up to his neck.

He recognised Renee and Allison's room, and wondered who had the displeasure of dragging him off the porch. Up the stairs must have been too much of a feat, but the longer he thought of hands on him the more the nausea creeped up on him. He swallowed it down like he always did, and gripped the onyx necklaces around his throat to ground himself. 

Andrew cracked his neck and sat up straight, expecting dizziness but feeling nothing of the sort. Bare feet met warm floorboards, Andrew grabbing the orange hand knitted scarf on the door to hide his mortification from the others. Falling over was one thing, but passing out? He would never hear the end of it.

The voices that had been so vibrant in the lounge dimmed when Andrew rounded the corner. They were all doing their best not to stare, but they were failing miserably. Especially Nicky, his worried brown eyes enough for Andrew to roll his eyes. He bit the bullet and sat down on the only available chair. They were lounged on the floor and on each other, evidently waiting for Andrew to make his appearance.

Dan was the first to speak, “He’s your Contra, isn’t he?”

 _The word sounded even stupider out loud._ “Where is he?”

“We put him on the couch,” Matt explained, arms folded against his chest, “left him alone for breakfast, and then he was gone.”

Renee was the only one who was not looking at him strangely. His eyes settled on her, and she kept her voice carefully level despite her obvious intrigue. She was good like that. “What happened, Andrew?”

“Threw some smoke, he threw some wind back. I passed out.”

“Because of the pain?”

Andrew did not offer Abby’s obvious question an answer. She looked seconds away from touching him, healing any wounds that sleep had not fixed, and he made it known with his posture how that would go down.

“We told you it would be a _tingle,”_ Nicky had drifted closer to Andrew, now settled on the ground near his feet. “It shouldn’t have hurt that bad, Andrew.”

“It started as a tingle,” Andrew blinked languidly and let his head hit the back of the chair. “Until we got too close.” 

His luck was something else. Even when Andrew had miraculously found his Contra, it was fucked up, the two of them unable to even use their abilities to strengthen them. And wasn’t that the entire point? Balance, and strength, all that cliché shit. 

“I personally haven’t heard of it happening, but that doesn’t mean this is a problem.” Dan spoke as she often did, commanding the attention of the room. If Andrew was in a better mood he might have contemplated listening to her, “It would’ve been nice to have Neil here to test out of it was a one time thing, but…”

“Why don’t we just order something?”

“You really think he’ll come back?”

“We can only try,” Allison tapped her nails on the coffee table like the act itself could summon an owl. “Does anybody need anything?”

“A Ouija board.” All attention was turned to Kevin, who groaned, “I need a fucking Ouija board, okay?”

Andrew did not know why Kevin did not just talk to him. Andrew felt incredibly dead at the moment. 

He closed his eyes as the room tumbled into action, Allison and Nicky arguing over who should do the incantation. Andrew could hear Wymack speaking lowly to Abby behind him, and heard a door close upstairs. The dizziness had taken its time to settle, Andrew feeling his head doing flips even while he sat incredibly still.

“Andrew?” He opened his eyes and saw Renee’s kind smile, “Would you like some tea?”

He was nursing a cup of peppermint tea fifteen minutes later, the coven bustling around the cottage now that they had sent off the owl. They either had one hour or a couple to fill in, but Andrew knew better than to expect Neil at the door. He had been scared off for good, and if not, one look at their frenetic coven would have him running.

“It would have been nice if he left a note,” Renee hummed after blowing on her tea. 

Andrew swirled a finger in his own, “It would have read _fuck off.”_

Renee’s laughter was a quiet affair, a brief exhale through the nose. It showed more in her eyes, the fine lines showing just how humorous she found the joke. Her face smoothed out gradually, like a receding wave, “He will be curious. If he doesn’t return today it will be sometime after.”

“He said he didn’t feel anything.”

“You and I both know that’s not true.”

The doorbell rang exactly an hour later. Andrew, still sitting in the kitchen, watched on as they hurried down the staircase and halls to reach the door first. The footsteps were thunderous. Matt was the one to open it, cool air spilling into the warmth of the cottage. The disappointment on his face told Andrew all he needed to know. 

He stretched and made his way to the staircase, Andrew not sparing the new delivery boy a single glance.

A week had passed, but the house had still not dropped the curious case of Neil the delivery boy.

Andrew told himself he was over it. Told himself he did not think of Neil’s curls, or his thighs, or the intensity of their smoke and wind intertwining. He was beyond caring, Neil was not interesting when he was not around, and despite the various attempts to lure him to the house he made it a point not to show. Andrew did not care, he was over it.

Neil was just another example of the unattainable, that’s all he ever would be.

“I would really appreciate you not setting the pumpkins on fire, Aaron.” Nicky was weeding the garden, Andrew settled on the back porch observing his family squabbling. It was a daily occurrence. Nicky’s type was growth, but he preferred to do things the old fashioned way. Aaron loathed it, his irritation burning as bright as the flames that licked around his fingernails. 

“It was the stems,” Aaron countered, “and it was an accident. I was trying to get the bugs.”

“Bug spray! We have bug spray, and magic.”

“My magic is _fire,_ genius.”

Nicky pointed at Aaron with his gardening fork, “If you keep on doing this I’ll get Matt to douse you in river water.”

“The closest river is half a mile away, _besides-”_

Andrew zoned them out when he noticed Kevin’s face in the window. He tilted his head, beckoning him inside. Andrew had nothing better to do, and soon found himself in the attic. It was Kevin’s makeshift bedroom, a bedroom that had grown permanent after all these months. All that was in it was a mattress, a single dresser, and books scattered across the floor. 

Currently, a Ouija board took up much of the spare floor, and Andrew eyed it with distaste. “What exactly do you hope to achieve with this?”

“For one it’s authentic, not one of those half-baked ones mortals use.” Kevin sat down in front of it, his hair a tousled mess, “I’ve been feeling jittery, I need an outlet.”

“Or you’re using it as an excuse you try to communicate with him.”

Kevin glared up at Andrew, “I don’t want to speak to Riko.”

“I don’t doubt it, you killed him after all.” 

It was a distortion of the truth, Andrew knew that, but he enjoyed prodding open wounds. Riko was dead because he had a bloated God complex and a lack of control to accompany it. There was no way Kevin could have pulled him back from the brink, even as his Contra. 

It was just amusing, Andrew thought, that life had lost its counterpart in death.

Kevin’s eyes hardened. “Fuck you, I’ll go get Wymack.”

“You know you can call him dad-” Andrew easily dodged the history book flying at his head. 

Andrew was out on the rooftop earlier that night. He attributed it to the storm brewing in the distance, the sight of the darkened clouds and the lightning sparking in the distance relaxing. It was one of the only noises Andrew enjoyed, something about the uncontrolled ferocity of it reassuring.

It was why the sudden, building wind was not of immediate concern. 

He barely noticed it, Andrew used to having to hold his balance. The veranda below would prevent a major injury, and Andrew would be more impressed than angry if the wind was strong enough to push him hard enough to fall.

But something about this particular wind felt different, the direction not following the trajectory of the storm. Andrew allowed himself a moment to wonder a quiet _what if…_

It was as if the sheer thought of Neil summoned him.

His head popped up out of nowhere, his body following, Neil eventually floating mid-air in front of Andrew. He did not look angry, nor afraid, Neil keeping his face as level as possible. He pointed to the space beside Andrew, asking to sit, and Andrew nodded slowly. Neil settled down beside him, his body warm, and Andrew naturally waited for the heart attack. 

There was only a tingle, like the first time, and Neil appeared just as relieved.

Andrew watched the storm for a long while, until he asked, “Why did you run?”

“I woke up in an unfamiliar place, what would you do?”

“Aim for the throat.”

Neil stared off in the distance, doing his best not to laugh judging by the shudder of his shoulders. He was quick to mellow, “I thought about staying, just for a second, but I couldn’t...”

He was searching for a name, and Andrew was in a good enough mood to give it to him.

“And yet here you are.”

“It’s been a week.”

“I can count.” Andrew would not admit he had been counting the days since Neil came into his life. Like a hurricane, devastating and leaving before the debris had a chance to settle.

“I noticed the deliveries,” Neil ran his hand through his hair, resting his chin on his knees. “I offloaded them to Jeremy, thinking it would be a one time thing. But as the address kept coming up I knew what you wanted.”

“It wasn’t me.”

Neil turned to Andrew, bemused. “It wasn’t?”

“My coven was interested, not me,” Andrew’s throat was scratchy from disuse, unable to think of the last time he had spoken this many words in such a short amount of time. “They made the orders, I watched.”

Andrew did not understand the sudden flare of anger on Neil’s face, coming as suddenly as a strike of lightning. “It’s none of their business.”

“Tell them that.”

Andrew did not think of it as an invitation, but Neil took it as one.

He disappeared as quickly as he had appeared, the wind taking Neil down to the front door in a flurry. Andrew took one final look at the sky before crawling through his bedroom window, unwittingly taking the storm inside with him. 

He heard the clamour as he took the stairs, Andrew taking his sweet time. The coven had been cleaning up after dinner, the group scattered between the kitchen, lounge and dining room. Neil at the door was as much of a surprise as the gust of wind that disrupted the curtains. Andrew felt eyes on him, but he ignored it, deciding to lean against the wall and watch the chaos unfold.

 _“Neil?_ What are you-?”

“What happened between Andrew and I has nothing to do with any of you.”

Dan, mouth agape in disbelief, threw her hands up. “Woah, okay. Do you want to sit down? We can talk if you give us the chance.”

Neil looked at Andrew, who quirked an eyebrow, uncaring either way. It would interesting if Neil stayed, but it would be just as entertaining if he left them all suspended and without answers for a second time.

Neil did not take the offered seat, but he did stay in the doorway. 

“We were only concerned because of the affect it had on the both of you,” Wymack’s sudden presence had Neil taking a step back, Andrew following the reaction, knowing it was something notable. “I don’t like seeing anyone in my coven in trouble, and you were that trouble Neil.”

“I didn’t mean it.”

“I know you didn’t,” Wymack agreed. “But we also had no idea what happened, they-” he pointed at the rest of them, “-wouldn’t let it go, curious bastards.”

“And besides, you leaving without saying anything left us even more curious.” Matt looked especially wounded at that, like he had somehow bonded with Neil despite him being passed out cold on the couch the entire time. They got oddly attached like that, Andrew had never been able to understand it.

Neil crossed his arms, now huddled closer to the wall, “I had no business staying.”

Nicky had that wounded look on his face again, “You had to have known he was your Contra.”

“I don’t trust any of that shit,” Neil bristled, teeth bared. Andrew enjoyed the spectacle. “It means nothing to me.” 

It was now Andrew’s turn for Nicky’s concerned gaze, “But… we need them, Neil. They’re essential. I know I was lucky with my cousin, and Andrew is a complete stranger, but everyone here has made it work.”

“I’ve survived this long without one, so has Andrew. We’re fine.”

Nicky was unconvinced. “You never thought anything was missing?”

“My patience,” Neil’s smile was as sharp as a razor, and Andrew was long passed smothering his interest.

Neil turned to open the door, but stumbled back when a harsh gust hit him in the chest, bringing rain and leaves inside. Andrew felt it from where he was standing, even Allison's ponytail bearing the brunt of the wind.

They all looked to Neil, who shook his head, rattled, “That wasn’t me.”

Renee stepped forward to peer out the window, “The storm has already hit. I wouldn’t suggest leaving in these conditions, Neil.”

Neil looked like it was the last thing he wanted to do, but one look outside had him caving. It had turned ugly, fast, the charms around the cottage the only thing keeping the storm from damaging their property. “Where will I sleep?”

“You’ve met our couch,” Andrew drawled, eyes only for Neil. “Become reacquainted.”

If Andrew took longer to fall asleep that night it was because of the rain, and not the thought of Neil leaving in the middle of the night.

Andrew felt the tingle before he even entered the kitchen. Relief followed.

The aroma of rain and pine was overwhelming, hurtling through opened windows and basking the cottage in that familiar tinge of nature. Dan was especially invigorated, glowing under the sunlight with a bag full of mushrooms she had harvested. Andrew expected nothing less from a forest type, his bed hair not up to par with her enthusiasm.

Neil was at the dining table, listening to Nicky, Matt and Allison as they all attempted to speak to him at once. He was not saying much, just nodding along and eating his granola. The difference in attitude hit Andrew like whiplash, the stillness of Neil’s expression from a completely different galaxy than his bared teeth and violent tone.

“Someone’s come around,” Renee handed Andrew some tea. “What did you say to him?”

“Nothing.”

“How curious,” Renee sipped her own tea. “Welcome this change of heart, don’t be wary of it.”

Andrew pushed down his harsh words, knowing Renee was not like the others. Her intrigue was for Andrew’s benefit, not nosiness. Instead, he ground out, “I can handle a bad temper.”

Renee’s dark eyes sparked. “You and I know he is more than that.”

Neil took that moment to look over at them, his hair pleasantly mussed. Andrew gripped his mug so tightly he wondered how it did not shatter.

The storm had long since drifted, yet Neil stayed at the cottage the entire day.

As it turned out, Neil the delivery boy did not have a coven. Neither did he have any friends or family worth mentioning. It had the others clucking about, determined to make his stay permanent. They argued that the house was huge, there was room for extra beds, and enough food for one more mouth to feed. They were notably mute about the whole _Andrew is your Contra_ detail, but Andrew heard it in their pauses and saw it in their lengthy stares.

He kept quiet about the matter, wanting Neil’s decision to be his own. Andrew did not want to show any sort of weakness by admitting he would like Neil to stay a little longer as well. Purely for investigative purposes only, he told himself, still in the dark as to why they had harmed each other. Andrew kept his distance, wanting Neil to approach him first. That proved difficult with Nicky, Allison and Matt continuing to fight for his attention. 

Andrew saw him as the fries thrown into a pack of hungry seagulls, dropped unexpectedly and causing a world of mayhem. He hid a smirk behind his hand when he had that thought, drifting into the garden for some fresh air. He hoped it would wash away all thoughts of Neil, but the brisk wind that whipped at his cheeks was a vivid reminder.

He was unsure how long he stood outside, but it was long enough for Neil to follow and interrupt his thoughts with that scratchy voice of his. He always sounded like he had been running a mile, breathless and in desperate need of water. It was fitting, Andrew thought, that he sounded how Andrew felt when he looked at him.

“Are they always like that?”

Andrew kept his expression as neutral as possible, “Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Sneak up on me,” Andrew turned to face him, noticing the giant jacket on his shoulders that was definitely not his. “It’ll earn you a-”

“Punch in the throat, yeah, yeah,” Neil waved him off, expressing gall without knowing Andrew was the bite after the bark. It was impressive, “I’ll stop.” He chewed on his lip, and Andrew averted his gaze, “But seriously, are they always so… intense?”

“You’re a new toy, they’ll get bored of you in a week.”

“How flattering.”

“You chose to stay,” Andrew reminded, thumbing at his necklaces. “Your choice, your consequences.”

“If I knew they were going to ask me a million and fucking one questions I don’t want to answer maybe I wouldn’t have.” Neil pulled himself onto the wooden railing, kicking his muscular legs back and forth, “It’s kind of weird how everyone but my _Contra_ seem interested in me.”

“You don’t trust any of that shit,” Andrew repeated Neil’s words back to him. With his eidetic memory it was easy, but easier with how the very words had been pestering Andrew ever since he had heard them. “It means nothing to you.” 

Neil, taken aback, blinked rapidly. “It doesn’t.”

“Then stop bringing it up.”

The wind picked up for a second, then died down just as quickly. Neil was watching Andrew intensely, “I was under the assumption you weren’t like them, that this _soulmate_ garbage meant nothing to you.”

Andrew did not know where he truly stood with it, had never thought he would _have_ to deal with it. All he knew was it sounded tedious, a lot like shedding skin and breaking down walls Andrew could not afford to lose, “I was under the assumption I didn’t have one, that I didn’t have to care.”

“And now?”

“I’ll make a decision when I know you won’t run off in the middle of the night.”

Neil pushed himself off the railing, now eye to eye with Andrew. “Why?”

“You ask a lot of questions for someone who doesn’t want to answer any.” Neil, unwavering, didn’t grace that with a response, still waiting for Andrew who inhaled slowly. _Maybe he would stay if Andrew was honest._ It was a sobering thought, one that had Andrew foolishly blurting, “No point in getting attached if you leave.”

Andrew watched the goosebumps rise on Neil’s exposed wrist, the thin hair following. Neil himself stood straighter, lips parted and words failing him. He said nothing more, simply turning on his heel and wandering back into the cottage to feed the coven more of his pretty lies with that pretty mouth of his.

Andrew had only known Neil for a day, and there was already a crack in the wall and a tear in his thick skin.

A duffel bag appeared on the welcome mat Thursday morning. 

It was a bag that Neil scooped into his arms before saying, “I’ve decided to quit my job and stay here, if you’ll have me,” like the words themselves weren’t a violent, earth shattering storm disrupting the serenity of breakfast. Toast, eggs and coffee were abandoned, leaving Andrew alone at the table with Renee who kept her musings to herself. 

They set up a bed in Matt’s room, giving Neil’s back a permanent chance to recover from the couch. It was a relief and maddening all in one. Andrew would no longer be privy to Neil’s presence when he raided the kitchen in the middle of the night, his blue eyes brighter in the darkness. Andrew always munched on his biscuits a little quicker when he noticed him, not wanting to waste them by throwing them at Neil’s face.

They were well into the afternoon, Neil whisked outside to help tend the garden now he was officially part of the coven. Andrew was reaching for the cookie jar when Wymack’s tattooed arm stopped him, “I think we’ve avoided the elephant in the room long enough, don’t you think, Minyard?”

“He’s only five foot three, don’t inflate his ego.”

“Hilarious,” Wymack’s deadpan voice sounded a lot like his regular. “I’m serious, we need to figure you two out.”

“He’ll bite your hand off before you can try,” Andrew spoke with certainty. Any time anyone mentioned the C word Neil snapped, eyes hard and tongue mean. Andrew would admit he did it on purpose just to see Neil’s face ripple, and feel the wind against the skin. It was refreshing, seeing someone react purely on instinct just like Andrew did, Kevin the only one coming close.

“Then I’ll just have to wear gloves.” Wymack gestured for Andrew to follow him outside, who grabbed two biscuits to go. 

Andrew was instructed to stand opposite Neil in the clearing beside the cottage. Wymack was standing a distance back, as were the others, Andrew doing his best to focus purely on Neil and the slight furrow of his brow. He was not pleased with the proposition, but one look at Andrew had him caving. Whether it was genuine intrigue, or a sense of duty to his coven, Neil was standing in front of Andrew who was preparing himself for a headache.

Wymack clapped his hands, drawing their attention, “Just do exactly what you did a week ago.”

“Go on Neil,” Andrew goaded. “Lie.”

Neil did not rise to it, clearly waiting for Andrew to strike first. It was what happened after all, Andrew’s anger getting the best of him and ultimately forcing them into this predicament. The coven was looking at him expectantly, and Andrew rolled his eyes. The longer Andrew spent with Neil the less intense the jolt grew. He still remembered it, but he also remembered a pain so intense that he could not breathe. He would rather not relive it.

Andrew refused to release the smoke the entire time Neil had stayed with them. Days felt like weeks, and Andrew bit back his sigh when the familiar weight of the smoke coiled around his fingers. It lingered for a second, as if saying hello, before wafting around his body and tumbling across the ground. Neil hesitated, breathed, and whipped up a gust to counter the smoke.

Andrew readied himself, shoulders tense and teeth gritted, but felt nothing.

Neil, on the other hand, was writhing in the grass, choking on the smoke.

The world faded to white noise. Andrew contained the smoke, lightheaded at the swiftness of its retreat. He had fallen incredibly still, even as the others rushed about and crowded Neil. He thought he heard someone calling his name, thought he saw fingers clicking in his face. It was useless, Andrew too busy stuck repeating the image of Neil on the ground over and over.

He punched the first person who touched him, Kevin unfazed by the roughhousing. He barely reacted when he felt the spark of Kevin’s hand, bringing him back to the present like his fingers had wrapped around his heart and tugged. Andrew was walking before he even had the chance to catch his breath, pushing past the huddled bodies to get to Neil.

Neil was staring at the sky, dazed, looking at something above and beyond them. His chest was heaving, but there were no obvious afflictions. It may have had to do with Abby’s hands on his shoulders, healing whatever Andrew had broken, Wymack standing close behind her with a concentrated frown. At the first sign of Neil coming back to himself Andrew fled, unable to bear the weight of what he had done. 

He would later blame the hole in the wall on Kevin, and the broken cookie jar on a stray cat.

Neil sought him out hours later.

Andrew tasted bile when he saw him, reliving that sickly moment of dread. He felt as if someone had carved out his chest, turning something Andrew had relied on into something ugly and worthy of scorn. The smoke had been the only constant in his life, and yet there it was inflicting pain on someone worth becoming another constant for Andrew.

“Have you eaten?” Neil asked, sticking his head into his bedroom.

“No.”

Neil revealed a plate, “You should.”

“Stop.”

The plate was discarded on the nearby dresser. Neil slipped inside and closed the door, resting his back on it. He surveyed the small room, the silence a gaping chasm between them. He did not look angry, nor afraid, Neil’s face open. He said, “I don’t blame you.”

“That’s stupid of you.”

“Maybe,” Neil admitted, “but I know you didn’t want to hurt me. We didn’t know what was going to happen, it could’ve been you on the ground, not me.” Andrew would have rathered that, losing his appetite even further thinking of Neil, dazed and hurting.

“Since when are you the voice of reason?”

“Since I don’t want this to be the reason you stop talking to me.”

Andrew dropped the book he was reading on his bed, his full attention on Neil and his earnest eyes and even more earnest words. “Do they know why it happened?” The coven had to have started conspiring behind his back, as was the way of the house. 

“Wymack has some theories,” Neil tapped the door in a steady rhythm. “None I like.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow, needing an explanation for whatever the fuck that meant.

“He thinks it’s because I’m pushing away, trying to ignore the bond,” Neil was tense, as if the words scraped like razor blades against his throat. “Fate doesn’t like push back.”

It explained why Andrew was not affected. That hit like a freight train, confirmation that Andrew had given into Neil, but the man himself was waiting for him to speak. He looked uncomfortable, trapped in a corner he had dug for himself, not knowing whether to push or yield. Andrew knew that feeling all too well.

“You need to decide,” it was black and white, clear to Andrew what Neil’s options were. “Keep fighting and run, or stay and endure.” _Stay with me and see what happens, only if you want to._

_I want you to._

“It’s not that simple.”

“It is.”

Neil chewed on that, Andrew gave him the time to do so. While waiting, Andrew rose to his feet to grab the discarded plate. The pie was still warm, only barely, Andrew taking small nibbles and ignoring how close he and Neil were. He could feel Neil’s body heat, running as hot as his temper, Andrew swallowing down the pie and any desire to know how Neil would feel pressed against him.

He shifted against the door, Neil suddenly too close and not close enough. “Do you want me to stay?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think.”

“I think… it matters to me.” 

The admission was difficult, considering the pained look on Neil’s face, and if Andrew could make the words tangible and hold them close to his chest he would. 

Andrew was quiet, not wanting the world to hear him, “If you want to leave, I won’t stop you. If you want to stay, I will keep talking to you.”

Neil’s lips quirked, eyes softening, and Andrew had the childish need to shove the pie in Neil’s mouth before he could say something devastating. Instead, Andrew shoved more pie in his own mouth, stopping himself from saying anything stupid. The tether between them was breakable, Andrew not wanting to push his luck.

“Okay.”

That look on Neil’s face did not go away, and Andrew could not help himself. 

“If you ask why, this fork is going in your eye.”

Neil’s laughter was more of a wheeze, like Andrew had followed through and pounded on his chest. Even if he wanted to, Andrew would be unable to, his threats a reflex and drizzling into his retorts like honey. Bitter honey that burned your throat on the way down.

Neil slipped out of his room, leaving Andrew’s bedroom colder without him.

The forest teemed with life, Dan drawing in all the bugs and animals in the vicinity.

Andrew did his best not to swat any of them away, tolerating the rabbit near his shoe as Nicky cooed over it. Neil hesitantly stroked its fur, the rabbit tensing before melting into the touch. He looked up at Andrew, grinning, triumphant. Andrew threw a marshmallow at his face.

The coven had gathered around a fire late one night, the large clearing giving them optimal room to lounge about in the comfort of the trees. Andrew was sitting on a ratty camping chair, one Aaron had found tucked away in a cupboard that he had stolen. He had retaliated by taking ten minutes to light the fire, the spite in his eyes something Andrew could not care less about. 

Wymack looked ridiculous holding two mighty sticks over the fire, marshmallows rested on every single sharp protrusion. There was enough for the entire group with just the two sticks, and Wymack was almost thrown into the fire by the sheer force of them reaching for the sweet treats when he was done. They left him none, but he was unbothered, grabbing more to roast as Abby watched on with a faint smile.

“This is nice,” Neil admitted, looking as relaxed as Andrew had ever seen him. He had expected a reaction from the fire, considering the blatant burns on his face, but Neil had not said anything so Andrew refused to. It would be unfair, and a real fucking mood killer. At any sign of distress Andrew would haul him back to the cottage, but that look of contentment never left his face.

“Clearly mosquitoes don’t bother you,” Andrew had lost count of how many had bitten him. Dan said she would do some kind of incantation, but Andrew was yet to feel the effects of it. He was starting to think she was full of shit.

“Guess I taste bad,” Neil rested the back of his head on the arm of the chair, his hair spilling over and touching Andrew’s arm. It was soft, and nice, and Andrew did not push him away.

“Guess I’ll have to test that.” Neil did not respond. Andrew settled on him being dense until he leaned over for another marshmallow, and noticed the blush on his cheeks.

“Andrew, the point is to roast the marshmallows,” Matt complained when he wandered over, ruining the moment. “That’s the whole point of the fire.” He was putting in more effort to speak to him, even if it was only when Neil was around. Andrew had to wonder if he was the reason for the change of heart. 

“I thought it was to inflate my brother’s sense of importance,” Andrew quipped, throwing another marshmallow in his mouth. “My mistake.” Neil snorted, more of his hair falling on Andrew’s arm. 

Matt looked between them with a keen eye. A nearby Allison's mouth was keener, “This is a new development.” Andrew threw a rock at her knees, silencing her.

The night went by quite like that. Neil and Andrew keeping to themselves, someone making an unsavoury comment and Andrew finding a new and creative way to tell them to fuck off. At some point during the ordeal Neil got cold, his shaking apparent with how close he was keeping to Andrew’s side.

It was an easy decision as Andrew rose to his feet, careful not to jostle Neil. He made his way into the forest to collect more twigs and branches, enough for Neil to stop shivering. He threw them on the fire, the embers flying upwards and disappearing into the night sky like expired stars. 

He sat back down and felt the added heat immediately. Neil, with a similar hum, yawned and stretched. His head was close to Andrew’s lap, the heat of the fire nothing to the heat in his stomach. Neil was close, but he still did not touch, knowing his limits and knowing the boundaries. Andrew could not help but stare.

The coven could not help themselves either.

Some were being more obvious about it (Allison and Nicky) while others were less obvious (Matt and Dan.) Renee kept her eyes averted, but Andrew could read her face well enough to know what she was thinking. He wondered if this was what Neil felt on those first couple of days, irritation and a certain prickle under the skin that left him ready to attack. 

But if Andrew moved, he would make Neil uncomfortable, so he did the second best thing. Andrew’s eyebrow raise was a loud _what?_ despite his sealed lips. They looked away, Aaron glaring at him before he threw a fireball at the fire. With their absence, Renee took the opportunity to send Andrew one of her kind, knowing smiles.

Her eyebrow raise was a loud _I told you_ despite her sealed lips.

“If your type is growth, why don’t you just use your magic to quicken the process?”

Nicky groaned, “Not you too, Neil.”

Andrew was in a state of déjà vu. He was on the porch, Nicky was tending the garden, Aaron was picking fights. The only difference was Neil was among them, looking a little lost but thankful to be standing there all the same. He looked like that a lot.

Andrew was waiting for the coven to get bored of Neil, but they seemed hellbent on proving Andrew wrong. Just today Kevin had dragged Neil on a run through the forest, the girls grabbing him as soon as he returned to help them bake. Given Renee’s track record she would have chosen something Andrew’s taste buds would fancy.

“It’s a valid question, Nicky,” Aaron was vindicated from where he sat on a lonely wheel. It was the first thing other than annoyance or anger he had seen on his brother’s face in a long while. Even if it was born from spite, it was different, a welcomed change from that dumbass look he always had on his face. Not that Andrew would ever admit that.

“It tastes different when I use my magic,” Nicky handed Neil a strawberry, who stared at the fruit like he could not believe he had been given a gift. “It’s not the same, and it’s really not that big of a deal but I _know_ when it’s different. Besides, it passes the time, and gives me an excuse to hang out with you all. Especially you Neil, you’re a slippery little thing.”

“I’m not little.”

“So you’re slippery?”

Neil pulled a face. In the middle of his grimace he noticed Andrew, and made a bee-line for him. It was his turn to feel something other than annoyance or anger, wholly satisfied by Nicky’s complaints that Neil had abandoned their conversation for Andrew. The rest of the coven had gotten used to it, but Nicky was Nicky and refused to.

“You’ve gotten cosy.”

Neil rubbed his dirty hands on his jeans, “I think they’ve hexed me to enjoy their company.” 

Andrew scoffed at the obvious lie. Neil had to enjoy their doting by now, or at least allowed it in good faith, judging by his participation and careful smiles. The only person that seemed to still push Neil’s buttons was Kevin, but Kevin was Kevin, and even that had dulled. 

Andrew had not seen Neil’s temper in weeks, and despite getting a thrill out of his ire Andrew did enjoy the quieter moments with Neil. 

They settled on the rooftop, Neil keeping distance between them but still staying close. Andrew never set any boundaries, Neil had figured it out by himself with those keen eyes of his. Andrew had been unable to sleep one night because of it, utterly perplexed how someone like Neil had stumbled into his life all because of a hungry fox and a little rosemary. He still thought of him as one elaborate dream, Andrew waiting to jolt awake any second. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t push me off the roof,” it was not an ideal start to a sentence, and Andrew tensed, waiting for the pipe dream to be ripped from him. “Do you only tolerate me because of what we are to each other?”

Andrew exhaled, and counted to ten. He did not know if Neil understood the double meaning behind his words, if it was intentional. Andrew decided to read what was bright and vivid and answered truthfully, “No.”

Neil sighed, “Okay. It’s just… I don’t want whatever this is to exist purely because you’re my Contra.” The uncertainty in his tone was uncharacteristic. Andrew wanted to wrench it from Neil’s vocal cords with his bare hands.

It _had_ started the fascination, but Andrew could not lie and say that was driving him towards Neil, constantly in his orbit. There were a myriad of reasons, his smart mouth one of them, his legs another. His understanding the greatest. The entire enigma that was Neil Josten had his chest aching in a way it never had.

The jolt had become Andrew’s normal, there were times he forgot Neil was his soulmate. The word meant nothing to him, it was simply a word. But Neil, solid and breathing beside him, was more than that. Andrew did not want something, neither did he want nothing, he wanted Neil. _Neil,_ if he was willing to have Andrew as he was and as he always would be.

“No,” Andrew repeated, needing Neil to believe him. “It’s not because of what fate wants for us.”

Neil sagged, a lopsided smile on his face. “I never really doubted you,” he said, “I just needed to know for sure, needed to hear you say it before this went any further.”

Neil did not elaborate. Andrew was certain he would not survive if he did.

The silence that settled was broken by Neil twisting his body. He pulled strawberries from the small bag latched to his jeans, “I stole some when Nicky wasn’t looking.”

“And here I was, thinking you liked them.” 

He offered one to Andrew, the sweetness bursting in Andrew’s mouth like a wayward firework. Neil watched him, head tilted, “What does it taste like?”

“Theft.”

Neil’s smile was slow, “Perfect.” 

“There’s a blood moon coming,” Renee announced at the end of dinner.

It was a Sunday night, the entire coven gathered around the table with an extra chair squeezed in to accommodate Neil. Andrew had stacked the plates around him, doing more than he usually would, Nicky taking them gleefully, noticing the subtle change in behaviour. It was usually Renee’s job, but she had been too busy staring into the night. Andrew had ignored it, it was not strange for her to do so, but her words were impossible to ignore.

“I thought it wasn’t due until the end of winter,” Dan looked between them all, searching for confirmation. “It’s barely December.”

“It has been accelerated.”

_Two in one year, great._

Andrew turned to Neil, whose face had grown ashen. Attention continued to follow Neil, who tensed with every pair of eyes that settled on him. Andrew found himself leaning over, just the slightest, doing what he could to shield Neil’s body. It was not much, but he noticed the tension in his brow subsiding. He could not stop the shake of Neil’s leg. 

“Neil,” Dan said, taking it upon herself to explain. “I’m sure you’ve experienced a lot of these nights, but blood moons are different for covens. See, it-”

“I’m aware.” The room fell silent, and it only served to irritate him more, “I wasn’t in a coven before I came here, doesn’t mean I’ve never been in one.”

Andrew was unsurprised. The others had a harder time wrapping their heads around the concept. It was rare for a witch to leave a coven. There were particular circumstances that lead to such departures, Kevin Day being the shining example, but more often than not they were permanent. They were kept alive by centuries of bloodlines, or in their case found families, outcasts who had never had families and covens to begin with. 

For this to be Neil’s second coven was monumental, and they had been none the wiser.

“Oh, well,” Dan cleared her throat, Matt’s hand winding around her waist. “Then I hope you trust us enough for the night to run smoothly.”

Neil disappeared into his room for the remainder of the night, even Matt was unable to coax him out for a fruit laden dessert. Andrew perched himself on the roof as he always did, not startling when he heard his bedroom door open hours later. It was not who he hoped. The steps were heavier than Neil’s, more timid, and Andrew had two guesses. 

“You’ve gotten too attached to Josten.”

Andrew grunted a response, having not felt talkative the entire day. Neil had respected it, deciding to fill the silence for the both of them or not speak at all, content to just sit quietly. He was a comforting presence, as grounding as Andrew’s necklaces. Andrew struggled to remember the cottage without Neil haunting it.

“Just don’t be surprised if he fucks off before the blood moon. You saw his face.”

Andrew tilted his head to look back at Aaron. The shadows distorted his face, a face Andrew felt like clawing at, “He won’t.”

“Well, I don’t want to deal with the fallout if he does.”

“I don’t speak to you anyway, Aaron,” Andrew drawled, smoke itching from his palm and building a hazy wall between them. If he could not see Aaron, he would not feel so aggravated. It was simple, really, Andrew wishing most days he could drift around in a smoke haze and not have to interact with anyone... or mostly anyone.

Aaron chewed on his dry lips, shoulders hunched like he _really_ did not want to be there. Andrew himself did not know why he was bothering, “We’ve all noticed how you’ve changed, mellowed or whatever, Nicky won’t shut up about it. It’s small but it’s _something,_ so if he fucks you over and fucks this up, it’s on you.”

Andrew took a single deep breath, and instantly wished he could forget those words coming out of his brother’s mouth. “He won’t leave.”

“For our sake I hope he doesn’t.” 

Aaron left the room calmly, like he had not just soured Andrew’s night further. 

The smoke covered Andrew in a tight sphere as he brooded. Neil had stuck around this long, there was no way he would just up and leave. The blood moon was a single night, no matter how uncomfortable. Neil had to know that. If Andrew could endure it, he believed Neil could too. It was easier for Contras, that had to be a silver lining, even if Neil was not attached to the idea.

Andrew continued to stare into the darkness, ignoring the twist in his stomach when he realised the air was still.

It was the night before the blood moon, and the cottage was antsy.

Nicky had kept himself in the garden all day, Abby by his side talking a storm. Aaron kept wandering in and out of the woods, likely setting unsuspecting trees on fire. Dan let him know how she felt about that after the second time, Wymack’s sigh louder than her scorn. Allison had bitten her nails raw, manicure be damned, Renee never once leaving her side. Neil was yet to leave his room.

Kevin was in an especially haughty mood, Matt coming close to drowning him in the sink after dinner. He had confessed that he was scared, not able to recall the last blood moon he faced without Riko. Andrew had listened, having nothing to say to him, Kevin uncaring with how he continued to rant and rave. He used to find solace in Andrew, knowing they had that familiarity of an absent Contra, but Neil had thrown a spanner into that familiarity.

Andrew was on the roof for the third time that day, not knowing where else to go or what else to do with Neil needing his space. He grit his teeth when Aaron’s words came back to him, all too real and all too pressing. _No point in getting attached if you leave,_ Andrew had said, unbeknownst to him how dire that sentence would grow to be.

He was smart enough to brace for Neil not coming out of his shared bedroom. He was on the second floor, _he could fucking fly,_ Neil could leave without any of them knowing. Without Andrew knowing, or fighting back. It would be easy, and so unbearably quiet. 

“Stop thinking so hard.”

Andrew opened his eyes to see a floating Neil, sitting crossed legged before him. The tingle hit with a jolt, sparking like a fallen telephone pole in the centre of a dry forest. The fire licked at Andrew’s nerve endings, somehow hot and cold all at once and _relieved._ He did not believe Neil’s nonchalance for a second, not with that slight twitch of his lips.

Neil settled down, rubbing his chest as he did. He looked half asleep, like he had just woken up, eyes a little puffy and hair a lot mussed. He felt like a dream, the brisk night air not enough to wake Andrew up. Andrew breathed him in, not prepared to spit him out just yet. 

“Someone in this cottage has to think.” Andrew enjoyed the wind on his cheeks, “I have to work double time now that you’re here.”

Neil giggled. Andrew was dizzy, and not because of the height.

His laughter drifted like the tide, slow and unsure. “Everything has felt weird.”

“Thank the moon.”

“Yeah, obviously,” Neil leaned back on his hands, glancing up at the moon in question. “It’s so far away, it shouldn’t have any control over us.”

Andrew shrugged, “Your past is far away, so is mine, yet it still feels close.” It was a confession and a question all in one, Andrew expecting Neil to have understood. Judging by that look on his face he did. Andrew gave him the time he needed, his patience yet another fragile thing he had offered Neil.

“I came from an esteemed, affluent coven.” Neil took a steadying breath, the words painful to get out, “My father was the head. My type was seen as useless, my father was ridiculed. He didn’t like that.” 

Andrew looked at the scars on Neil’s face. He bit the inside of his mouth until it bled, swallowing the burst of copper in a bid to ground himself. “He did this?”

“I wanted to leave the coven, he wanted to make an example out of me,” his lips curled into a sad smile. “He got the last word in, obviously.” 

“He let you go?”

“I was _useless,_ they were better off.”

Andrew nodded. “And your mother?” 

“She’d been dead a while. She was my father’s Contra, and I get the feeling she didn’t do what he wanted.” Neil hid his shaky hand under his thigh, “Her healing was never strong enough to match his pain, there was no _balance,_ he weakened her.”

Pieces fell together smoothly, and Andrew hummed. “That’s why Contras mean nothing to you,” Neil nodded, “and that’s why you look at Wymack like that.” Andrew had noticed Neil skirting around Wymack, flinching whenever he raised a hand. He had assumed it had something to do with his past, his father and Wymack sharing types making sense. 

“Am I that obvious?”

“No.”

Neil’s sigh was barely audible, “I know he won’t do anything, you all wouldn’t trust him if he… but it’s just another reminder. I have enough of those.” 

Andrew watched as Neil touched his face gingerly, like the wounds were still open and festering. He traced the largest scar with accustomed ease, like he had done it countless times before. He likely had. “I can’t hide from it,” Neil said, looking miles away. “I’m always reminded of it.”

Andrew tugged at the onyx necklaces around his throat, the chain digging into his pale skin and leaving bright red ropes. He always carried the three protection stones with him, but two would suffice. Andrew pulled off a necklace before he could think it through, his skin already beginning to change, scars darkening. Andrew swallowed hard at the sight, but his resolve was firmly unwavering.

He dropped it on Neil’s hand, whose reflexes saved the crystal from hurtling off the side of the roof. Neil looked at the necklace, then at Andrew, then back at the necklace, “What is this?”

“They’re charmed. It’ll soften your scars.” 

Neil slipped the necklace over his head. He waited a moment, the fingers touching his face pulling away in shock as the scar tissue below receded just the slightest. “Andrew,” Neil breathed, marvelling at the way the scars on his hands were fading. “I can’t take this.”

“Take it or don’t, I don’t care.”

Neil held onto the onyx like it was a lifeline, “I thought you didn’t like liars.” 

“I just don’t like you.” 

“Then why give me the necklace?”

Andrew wanted to push Neil off the roof. It would be pointless, he would simply float back up and give Andrew one of those awfully smitten grins of his. He hated that look on his face, loathed it, had gotten quite used to it. 

Neil’s face softened, “Thank you, Andrew.” 

Andrew nodded.

As Neil continued to look at him like that, it was clear to Andrew his departure would hurt more than anything else, more than any secret or admission. And he had to know, Andrew needed to know, “Are you going to leave tonight?” 

Neil's frown overtook any softness, “Why would you think that?”

"Are you or are you not going to leave, Neil?” _I can’t stop you, but I want you to stay._

“No,” His voice did not waver, but his eyes glinted painfully. “Have I made it seem like I will?”

Andrew, unprepared for that answer, stared down at his hands. They were pale from how he held his ankles, nails digging into soft skin.

Neil noticed his unease, “The blood moon reminds me of my father, it has nothing to do with any of you. I left the coven the night of one, so he… he had a lot more to throw at me.” Andrew glanced at his burns, thought of Aaron’s hands, and suppressed an angry shiver. 

The words flowed, and Andrew did not feel the need to stop them, “I will never let anyone hurt you.”

Neil tugged on the necklace, just as Andrew always found himself doing, “I know.”

Andrew vowed to keep his word, nothing on earth able to break that promise.

The witching hour was fast approaching.

High in the sky the moon shone brightly, drenching everything in hues of red and orange. It left the air thick with magic, the coven having to wade through it to make it to the clearing. Andrew’s legs were aching by the time he was able to sit, his joints singing with relief. The others were in a similar state, exhaustion resting heavy on their nerves.

They gathered in a circle, Contras sitting beside their partners. Kevin was the only outlier, nestled in the middle of Wymack and Dan. Aaron begrudgingly made sure to sit beside Andrew, notably not commenting on how Neil had indeed not run, and was sitting anxiously on Andrew’s other side. His onyx crystal glinted under the moonlight, flashing every time he moved. 

Wymack checked his watch, took one look at the moon, and said, “Alright, hands together.”

Apparently it made the process easier, but Andrew would rather the added discomfort and danger over holding hands. Aaron’s hand was always warm with sweat. They made sure it was the barest of touches, but Andrew still felt an itch spreading through his bloodstream like a virus. He usually gave his other hand to Renee, but she was on the other side of the circle this time around. And Neil…

Neil was watching Andrew with wide, cautious eyes. He traced the dirt with his fingers, hesitant to touch Andrew, and it was enough for Andrew to reach out for him. His hesitation spoke volumes, Neil’s cold, calloused hands welcomed in Andrew’s palms. The itch was only a whisper, drowned by the warmth in Neil’s eyes. 

The witching hour hit, and Andrew was again reminded why he dreaded these nights.

Andrew did not know how it came to be, how blood moons had the power for types to share their full abilities with their covens. He did not know, nor did he really care, Andrew only really requiring a face he could pummel into the dirt. His pain tolerance was high, but that did not mean it was not painful, or that the others could handle the surge of energy comfortably.

It felt a lot like wearing all of your clothes at once and falling into the ocean, trying to swim out of a current. It felt a lot like a snake coiling around your body, the pressure enough for your ears to pop and your skin to bloat. It felt a lot like eating too many sweets, your mouth coated in an overbearing sugar and your stomach sickly.

Their bound hands kept the magic contained, making sure none of them could accidentally hurt one another or the land around them. It took Neil ten minutes before he attempted to tug away. His eyes were squeezed shut, sweat beaded by his temple, trembling under the intensity of it all. Matt made sure to hold him tight, even when he tugged more viciously. Andrew was unsure if Neil even knew where he was, or who he was with, given the low whine.

The sound had Andrew pulling Neil closer. He protested weakly, Andrew breathing deeply to stop himself from disconnecting the circle. He wanted to drag Neil away to the safety of the rooftop, wanted to sit with him until he calmed down and could think properly again. Andrew wanted to wash his hands and punch a hole in a mirror. But Andrew was stuck, motionless, forced to watch Neil in pain all over again.

Andrew ignored the other sounds of discomfort and complaints around the circle, focused entirely on Neil. He manoeuvred his body slightly, using his leg to pull Neil even closer until his head rested on Andrew’s chest. There was that familiar itch for a long moment, Andrew tensing instinctively, but the longer Neil stayed the easier it grew. It was slow to dissipate with the greater touch, but it was bearable, even more so when Neil himself was relaxing. 

His eyes were open, looking down at his necklace. They were clearer, a determined set to his brows as he stomached whatever was brewing in his head. Andrew could not erase those memories, or fully erase the scars, but if his hand and his chest could provide Neil stability Andrew would offer them without question.

The hour passed without further incident.

Andrew had lost all concept of time, too busy keeping track of Neil. Every twitch, and squirm, and breathy exhale. He sagged boneless against Andrew when it was over, and Andrew allowed it, checking him over to make sure none of his mental scars had manifested. He did it to himself, and would do so for Neil whenever he needed.

Renee was already on her feet, always taking the moon well. She checked on everyone, handing out the water and fruit she always brought along. She made sure to hold Nicky’s hair back when he vomited into a bush, knowing Aaron would refuse to do so even if he was in the proper state to help his cousin. 

She eventually knelt in front of Andrew and Neil, a bag of strawberries in hand. She handed the bag to Andrew, who tucked it into his pocket, knowing how Neil would devour them when he could feel his tongue again and remember how to swallow. It was a quiet gesture, Andrew nodding at Renee in appreciation. She nodded back, not needing his words. She was good like that.

The coven ambled back to the cottage when most of them were coherent enough to move. The only exceptions were Dan and Neil. Matt picked her up bridal style, and Andrew followed him with Neil, keeping his hold as light as possible. Neil made an incoherent noise and curled into his broad chest, his hair tickling Andrew’s neck. The coven took one look, and looked away, missing the opportunity to say anything as Andrew was too tired to manage a retort. 

Andrew took Neil into his bedroom that night, slipping him safely under the covers. He collapsed in the armchair adjacent when he knew Neil would not wake, joints by now at a similar consistency to jello. He did his best to keep his eyes open and alert, looking between Neil, the door and the window to make sure he was guarded for the rest of the night. But after half an hour he drifted, Neil the last thing Andrew saw.

He dreamt of nothing, Andrew able to sleep without interruption the entire night.

The coven slept for an entire day, Neil slept for two. 

It was not uncommon, and Andrew should have seen it coming after everything they had previously dealt with when it came to Neil. Albeit, it did not make it easier, Andrew’s thread long since worn thin after the first day. The others stopped coming around to check on Neil, not in the mood to deal with Andrew’s venom. 

Neil opening his eyes was an earth shattering relief, Andrew feeling more like himself at the show of his first timid smile.

The coven smothered him with attention for the entire day. After leaving the bag of strawberries on the bedside table Andrew gave him and them space, not wanting to intrude, knowing they would spend the night together as they always did. It had become routine, sitting on the roof staying up for hours, talking or not talking at all. Andrew had to quell the desire to pull him away more than once. He knew Neil wanted to be with them, and who was Andrew to disallow that?

Andrew waited outside with a blanket, picking at his nails until Neil appeared. He hovered down, swaying a little, and Andrew quickly threw the blanket at him. He took it gratefully, tugging it up to his neck and offering half of it to Andrew. Andrew had not expected to share, but under the bite of a wind that was not manifested by Neil he was not complaining. 

“I hear you took care of me the entire time I was asleep,” Neil’s fingers were dangerously close to Andrew’s, the jolt thrumming to life. “Thank you.”

“I wiped your drool, wasn’t that hard.”

“I know you also helped me in the circle," he revealed. "I was out of it, I don’t exactly remember what happened, but I know whatever you did helped me.” Neil had picked up the uncanny ability to see through Andrew, bones and sinew and all, and Andrew should have been more concerned.

Hundreds of words came to mind, Andrew settled on four he knew meant something to both of him, “I keep my word.” 

“And I’m grateful.”

The night grew colder, Neil huddling closer to Andrew searching for warmth who allowed the brush of shoulders and fingers. It felt like a millennia before Neil spoke again.

“Andrew, can we try again?” Andrew’s blank face had Neil’s reddening, “Our abilities, I want to test them again.”

Flashes of Neil in pain came at Andrew in a violent onslaught. He shook his head, “No.”

“It’ll be different.”

“How can you be sure?”

The determined shine of Neil’s eyes told Andrew what he thought of that, and he gave into Neil’s request. It had Neil giddy, the wind picking up before Andrew had a chance to catch his breath. It whipped at their hair and the blanket, Andrew taking a long second to take in the state Neil was in.

Hair a mess, eyes tired and unguarded, willing to accept their bond without the force of the soulmate title weighing them down.

Andrew took that leap of faith with him, the smoke blossoming around them both. He waited for pain, for Neil’s face to crumble, but he remained steadfast. He happily allowed the smoke to curl around his arms, and his neck, and twist into his hair. It was a striking sight, one Andrew drunk in hungrily, a memory he never wanted to lose. 

It was as impossible as it was unlikely for Andrew to have found Neil. But under the moonlight and the soft breeze, the protection of the smoke hiding them from the world, Andrew was able to believe it.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed, thank you for reading!


End file.
